Making It Work
by Galen Devereaux
Summary: On that frozen lake, what if Luke wasn't the one to fall through the ice? What if someone else, just as vital to Clem did? It would change the course of their lives forever.(Choices for the storyline are given at the end of every chapter. 3-5 chapters will be the length of the story. Vote in the comments. Story may be longer and/or have a sequel if requested enough. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! It's Galen Devereaux, and this fanfiction is going to have 3-5 chapters, possibly longer if it is requested, at the end of every chapter is a choice to make. Each choice will change the story majorly and each will have a **_**very**_** different outcome. Vote in the comments. Please like, comment, review, whatever else you want. Please review, as I am always open to criticism, thanks and read on.**

Chapter 1: A Frozen Smile

The first step caused the slippery surface to crack. Immediately, she knew this was _not _a good idea. They all reluctantly trudged onwards, each of the ragtag team wincing as they heard that terrible, sharp sound below them as the peril heightened. The danger and a sense of apprehension was thick around the group. Mike slowly stayed ahead, clasping AJ, comforted and cautioned by his soft cries.

Clementine silently tiptoed forward, being extremely careful, like everyone else. The bitter wind and light snowflakes wrapped around them. A chill of both anxiety and cold had set deep within all of their bones. They all made it to the halfway point, giving reassuring, yet nervous smiles to one another, except for Kenny, Jane and Arvo. Then everything went to hell.

The survivors turned at the all-too-familiar sound of walkers approaching, still meters behind them, moaning at their next targets. Knowing how unintentionally stealthy they were, and how their luck had been going recently, Clementine wasn't surprised. She saw the ice under Luke begin to break, but quickly reached forward and yanked him off of the hazardous zone of solidified lake, although, that seemed like the entirety of the lake now.

He sighed in relief, thanking her incessantly for rescuing him. But, they suddenly heard Arvo's yell as he noticed the undead creeping up on their location, and then ran forward towards the skeleton of a residence. Kenny pursued him screaming, "Get back you fuckin' Ruskie shitbird!"

Mike avoided the chase and was the first to make it unscathed to the other side of the petrified body of water. "STOP! KENNY! DON'T HURT HIM, HE'S JUST A KID!" Bonnie shouted. "Be quiet before you attract more of them!" Jane retorted as the redhead looked on, scared. Mike was yelling for Kenny to slow down. Worry consumed the entire lot of them. The pop of fracturing ice quieted all of their voices. Arvo suddenly fell into the below-0 temperature water, and Kenny yanked him up. Or tried to.

Arvo's flailing form only broke more ice. Kenny was pulled down by Arvo's crazy movements. He fell, and that was apparently the last straw as a large section of ice dissolved, plunging both the redneck and the Eurasian down into the frosty depths. Clementine yelled and ran towards them, but Jane and Bonnie both held her back. "No, let go of me, stop, they'll die you idiots!" Clem screamed at them. She managed to knock Jane down with a well-placed kick to the leg, and Bonnie let go of the 11-year old to help the young woman up before she fell through as well.

Clementine rushed to the site of Kenny and Arvo's disappearance. She abruptly heard the sounds of thumping hands on ice. Clementine sprinted to the now, irregular noise, a few feet away. Kenny was there, giving the warm smile that had been directed towards her so often at the Motor Inn, the manor, the streets of Savannah, even Crawford and the Ski Lodge, and on the road. The kind only Kenny, the kind bearded fellow who had befriended Lee, and took care of her in his stead, even if she wasn't a child anymore, could give.

She raised her Glock 17 to shoot out the only thing keeping them apart, but he shook his head no. She did the same. Firing a single 9mm round into the frozen layer of lake water, a small hole appeared. Kenny instantaneously threw out his crowbar and Ruger SR9 semi-automatic pistol. Before lunging at the tiny gap to reach the Southern man, she looked at him once more, and then realized. He _wanted _this.

After everything he had been through, his one and final wish was death. Even if he didn't know it. So she placed her hand against the ice, directly above where his was. He continued to smile, and then a reanimated Arvo, who skin was taut and gray agains his bones and covered with teeth marks, reached out from the murky surface and chomped down hard on Kenny's throat, filling the dark water with a bright red substance similar in color to cherry Kool-Aid into the surrounding volume of water. Kenny went limp and his fight just _died_ with him.

He drifted down, and Clem cried as she watched the last known remaining survivor she had been familiar with from the start of the collapse of the world, become just another meal for a shambling cadaver. She stood up, sobbing as she grabbed Kenny's things, and noticed the small, filthy orange hat rise to the small bullet hole she had made. Clementine daintily reached down and grabbed AJ's inheritance. Then she continued to where the others were waiting, on the opposing side of the lake.

…

After starting a fire, and feeding AJ half of the remaining formula, Clementine looked out the window to where Bonnie was keeping watch, as Jane searched for more supplies in the half-built house, and Mike worked out back on the truck. Luke was sitting with her, tending to the fire Clem had created with her nail file. "Listen Clem, its terrible that this happened… I…I'm so-so sorry. It should have been me. It should have been me." He muttered to himself more than the young survivor. Although she had busy starting a fire, giving the group's members tasks to fulfill, and feeding AJ, whom she held while he contentedly slept, her thoughts kept returning to the single moment where the Floridian's eyes glazed over, with his mouth trapped in an expression of pride and hope for Clem and AJ's future, like a moth to a fire.

Staring into the bright yellow flames, reliving the visceral scene again and again, something dawned on the small African-American girl. Kenny was harmful to the group. She had always known it, even on that train. Katjaa and Duck were _everything _to him. When they died, something broke inside of him. Something that had remained in disrepair until his death. Kenny had brutally bludgeoned a man to death with the crowbar lying with his softly glimmering sidearm on the mantle now. He had tied up and practicaly tortured a young boy for trying to protect his own, something Kenny certainly should have understood. Clementine had seen the bruises on Sarita's arms and torso. He had threatened Clementine, after she had somewhat caused his girlfriend's death. He had truly been driven mad by his son and wife's gruesome passing. Killing him was no more than a rabid dog's putting-down. It should have happened a long time ago. Absorbed in this new revelation, Luke promptly called her and she took AJ outside, where the group was meeting by the truck.

"Well, we all know North is a bad idea." Mike was saying. "Maybe, we could go down south, on the highway to any state we can find, hell, I don't know Texas even. As long as we can be a helluva lot warmer than we are now." Creases appeared in Bonnie's forehead. "No, no, no. We should go to the town, we know for sure there's places to scavenge and somewhere we can hole up at for a bit. It'll be safer then the road at least." Luke sighed. He opened his mouth a couple times, and then finally told them," Let's stay here, we have plenty of supplies and firewood. We'll all sleep together to conserve body heat, and there's half a dozen blankets we can use. We get some rest and decide after that." Jane immediately scowled and gave the six of them a piece of her mind.

"Hell to the no. This house is pathetic, and we can't defend it. We don't have a lot of baby formula left, and the food and water _will run out_. We can't just pack up and head south, we don't have a map, the main roads are blocked by cars, and we won't know if there will be any place to resupply at or spend the night, and that town might be full of walkers, bandits, and have no fortifiable buildings. _Or _it could be picked clean of anything we can use. But we do know where Howe's is," An eruption of refusals and accusations of insanity flew towards the short-haired female. Her hand immediately grasped the bowie knife at her thigh in its sheath. She eased her palm off of the smooth wooden hilt of the shining fixed blade. "Alright, alright. I can see where you are _all_ coming from. But, the defenses were down, and the walkers will have cleared out by now. We have enough weaponry and muscle to take down any lurkers and Neanderthals too dumb to flee that place. We know there's food, water, and most importantly baby formula. There'll still be a lot of guns and ammo left, along with plenty of other resources. The greenhouses will be intact. It's also a fortress on the inside, and it's a definite long-term place. It's the best chance we have, that AJ has." she concludes, practically out of breath. The five of them all look extremely shocked. That's the longest any of us have ever heard out of her in one breath. Unfortunately, everyone continues to stick with their own guns-sorry opinions, since everyone does the former now-and the deciding vote comes down to their brunette eleven-year old, who looks up from that tiny cooing carrier of hope. "Well? Waddya say Clem?" Luke asks.

**PACK UP AND HEAD TO TEXAS**

**DRIVE TO THE MYSTERY TOWN**

**STAY AT THE RUSSIANS' FORMER CAMP**

**HEAD TO HOWE'S**

**Vote below in the comments!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys its Galen Devereaux! I wanted to apologize **_**so much**_** for the super-long delay. I just wanted to say thanks for the reviews, favorites, and just general reading of one of my first fanfics. Please review, criticize, favorite, follow and everything else.**

**MAKING IT WORK**

**Chapter 2:**

Another decision. Fortunately, I know what to do. I look down at AJ's gurgling form and smile. To protect him is the only purpose in my life right now. To keep us both safe, and that's why I am deciding to stay here.

"Listen guys, okay? I think we should stay here. Before you object, hear me out. We have those axes we found out back to cut trees down, so we can stock up on lumber, and we can use the rest to block up the house and provide better insulation and protection to the structure. We can hunt and make runs to the town, Howe's, or anywhere 're all really beat up, and we need to be able to rest up and restore some strength. We won't stay forever, just a couple days to a week. We'll find baby formula by tomorrow night, at that town or Carver's old camp. Okay?"

They all gaze at me expressionlessly. Then, as if by magic, their faces restart and various emotions, such as hesitancy, trust, annoyance (sorry Jane) and others flash across them. However, all of them nod and break off quickly to get back to their respective duties. I take a deep breath of frigid air, and smile wearily at AJ's sweet face. I know I'll never tire of it. I made the right choice. Didn't I?

…

Hushing AJ down, with a game of peekaboo, wincing in realization that his sobs are due to hunger, I quickly yank out my Glock 17 at the sound of footsteps approaching the house, and then running in. The smooth black hilt in my hand has become familiar as my own face, which I don't see much anymore and don't hope to. The horrors of this world, both walkers and people, along my daily fight for my own and others' survival, have all certainly taken their toll on my appearance. Anyway, back to the fact that a potential murderer, bandit or something worse has just barged in on AJ's and mine own tender moment, I quickly realize it's just Mike, who was out chopping wood. He grins.

"Hey Clem, just wanted to let you know me and Bonnie are headed out for a hunt. We'll be back before nightfall. 'Kay?" "Yeah, sure Mike. Where's Luke and Jane?" I question. "Out back. You want me to get them?" he inquires. "No that's okay. Just wanted to know. We need to stick close. Can't be too safe." I tell him. He grins again. "That's my girl." He replies, chuckling, and giving me a noogie as he passes and heads out back. I smile. He may not have been very kind at first, but he and I have sure warmed up to each other over the span of a few days. I turn back, laughing to myself and make some silly faces at the little barely-a-week-old African-American in my lap. I hear two pairs of feet trudging away from the house, and look up just in time to see a glimpse of fiery red hair, and a skull of close-shaven black hair disappear into the tree-line. Luke's cheerful mug comes into view. He has been in quite a good mood since I sided with him on the choice of where the group's next destination would be.

"Hey, just wanted to ask you if you would like to learn something new. It could really save your life someday." He says, looking at me hopefully. I nod, and walk outside with AJ, to find Jane so she could watch over him while I'm with Luke. I see her hunched over, sorting through all of our stuff; the bags of weapons and ammo we got from Howe's and this place, Natasha, Arvo's "sick" sister's meds, the supplies we got from this house, leftover fuel and a toolbox form the truck and some gardening gear from a shed outback. It seems we have plenty for any group. Jane notices me, and sees AJ in my arms, immediately turning away.

"How are you Clem? What do you need?" I hold AJ out to her, giving her the fierce look that has become part of my daily routine. She groans, then takes him gingerly, and carefully walks back into the house. I laugh, knowing how uncomfortable she is around kids, one might say that applies to me, but I don't think I qualify as a kid. Not anymore. I then turn to Luke, who is holding his Norinco Type-56 and beckoning for me to join him near the afore-mentioned shed. I glare at him distrustfully, and he chortles, but sees my tapping foot and cocked head, and clears his throat in a few seconds.

"Well, you're probably wondering why I called you out here." He says. "Thanks, Captain Obvious," I reply. He looks at me again, sizing up my arms. "Yeah, I think you're big enough," he says under his breath. He walks over and holds out his AK-model assault rifle towards me. My mouth goes agape in shock. After a few seconds of hasty deliberation, I accept the long gun and cradle it against my body, the large weigh a bit encumbering. If I have trouble carrying it, how am I supposed to shoot this gun, let alone do it well? "Now I know this is probably a little bit scary, but you can do this. You sewed up your own arm with fishing wire and hook, didn't you?" I grumble about who's fault that is, but I then begin to listen and follow his instructions on how to properly, efficiently, and effectively maintain, utilize, and defend my self with these sorts of firearms. It takes some time, but eventually I understand everything he has told me, and am excited to test my newfound skills. A flock of geese begin to fly overhead, one of the last ones heading south. I wonder what delayed them…I don't waste precious time to take orders from Luke: I simply do.

I raise the Type-56, and aim at those birds, following them with both my sense of sight, and the rifle itself. I take a deep breath, and exhale with a squeeze of the trigger. 3 times. 3 ducks go down in less than 30 seconds. Luke whoops in delight and runs to claim them. I am furiously giddy with myself for learning such an important new survival skill. My head turns at the sound of Jane going in my direction, with a crying AJ. I quickly explain that I was just getting dinner, not killing walkers, and she sees Luke picking up limp fowl on the ground, sighing in relief. Something is going on between those two. Like, boyfriend-girlfriend, or kissing stuff. Is there any difference? I resolve to ask her later.

"He won't be quiet," she tells me, whispering in fear of attracting any more walkers that could already be heading this way from the gunshots and baby wails. She hurriedly hands me something. "It was my sister's. You know before all this. She was into that sort of stuff. Who knew… that almost all of it would really happen." It takes my eyes some time to adjust to the image of a crossed machete and M1 Rifle on the front of the tattered gray book. _The Zombie Survival Guide_ by Max Brooks. Hmph. I see a lot of handwritten notes stapled and/or taped to the back of the book. "I added a bunch of my own shit to it. Real experience from a real survivor, you know?" She informs me. Luke walks back over, staring at me proudly with 3 mallards slung over his shoulder.

"What's goin' on you-" He's cut off by the sound of walkers approaching at a steady rate. "Oh shit." Jane murmurs. She heads back inside with AJ, leaving me and Luke to draw our weapons in preparation for whatever is coming this way. But it's not walkers. Not yet, at least. Mike appears from the edge of the woods, splattered with fresh blood, and tears streaming down his face. But that's not what grabs Luke's and mine attention. It's the bloody and still figure of Bonnie, mouth drooping open and eyes doing the same. She could almost be asleep. If it weren't for the massive bullet hole that had ripped apart her torso, along with the blood.

Mike rushes over, sobbing as he lies her on the ground, where she remains motionless. My instincts kick in, and I rip off Bonnie's jacket to examine the damage. Carefully looking at the gunshot wound, I realized the bullet must have been of a powerful rifle caliber. No handgun except for perhaps a .500 S&W or .50 AE, .454 Casull-carrying firearm could do this much harm to the human body. I press her jacket on the entry wound, and look for an exit one. But there is none. I bite my lip in worry. How the hell will we fix this? We would need anesthetic and tweezers, stiches and a needle. I remember the tackle box in a small shed out back.

"Luke, go get the tackle box. This needs to be fixed up fast." I shout to him. Luke doesn't notice, as he is swinging his machete right and left, searching for more heads to slice open with his blade. When I look back, my worst fears are confirmed. A reanimated corpse with red hair has latched its teeth onto Mike's wrist. My hatchet appears in my hand, and I move for a swift chop to my target. Then I realize that a few walkers have slipped past Luke and have started banging on thee back door. Where should I strike? The bleeding arm or the decayed skulls? I don't want to have another Sarita situation on this group's already weak hands. But there is no time for indecision. I raise the small axe.

**-Chop off Mike's hand-**

**-or-**

**-Kill the walkers attacking the house-**

**Hey guys! I am incredibly sorry for the super-long delay. I hate repeat this, but it's only for emphasis. I broke my computer and it took an extremely long time to fix this. Otherwise I will update no later than a week for now. I am still new at fanfics, as one could most likely see. I realize I changed the story to a first-person perspective, but realized I've realized that I write better this way, after some playing around. As always, thank you, please vote comment, favorite, follow and review. Happy Holidays!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! This is the third Chapter of Making It Work, I hope you enjoy. **

**Please review, comment and follow. SPOILER ALERT: There is a Season 1 character's return in this chapter! It's a fan favorite as well. I want to say thanks for all the views and favorites, along with everything else. This was my very best Christmas present! Happy Holidays! **

**Making It Work: Chapter 3**

Mike's first screams are girlish, high-pitched, and made-up of mostly shrilly shrieks, incessant sobbing, and the occasional groan here and there. I never saw Lee _during _his amputation, but I know he couldn't have been pussying out like_ this_. Nevertheless, I keep hacking until all that remains is half of a limb.

Blood obscures everything, and I can taste Mike's gore in my mouth, I repeatedly blink, trying to keep my vision clear. I send the hatchet into four decaying skulls, (including what _was _Bonnie's) securing the unfinished house, and then I quickly tear off Bonnie's shirt, revealing the plain blue cotton bra underneath. I can barely tell due to the scarlet that stains all of Bonnie's upper body. I wrap that around the stump, just like Christa taught me. Hopefully I can stop the bleeding with this, at most only temporarily. Luke rushes over, as the that small herd has finally been desposed of.

"Oh my…Jesus Christ, what the hell happened!?" Luke cries. Mike mutters under his breath, and keeps turning back to where Bonnie's formerly reanimated corpse rests.

"Bonnie died and turned, I had to amputate." I say without looking at him, too focused on keeping Mike upright, and the blood-flow stymied. Jane turns when we burst through the oak doors, her face grimacing as she sees Mike, she then sets AJ down in his "crib", really just a cardboard box with that fluffy pink stuff in between the cracks of the bare walls.

Jane starts a fire, with my nail file, and then leads Mike over to the fireplace. She pulls out the gray-bottle of peroxide, and sets it down.

"I need a rag," she says briskly. "Hurry. Thanks." She tells Luke as he hands a candy-cane striped washrag, at which point she pours the deceptively clear liquid onto the mutilated appendage. He wails, but his pain-filled cries cannot mask the sound of walkers banging on the back door. Luke and I draw our bladed weapons in preparation.

Mike will not shut up, despite Jane's hushed commands to do so. I place Bonnie's bloody shirt into his open mouth, and immediately he begins gagging on the metallic-tasting, forest-green tee. Although, it's barely recognizable with all of the gore, which I am covered in entirely, only a quarter of it belonged to walkers.

Then she grasps a burning log. Luke's confused look lasts only a few seconds, before Mike's bawling intensifies, causing the little baby boy on the bench to do the same. A few hours later the clamor dies down. Now we can talk about what the hell to do next. "We need to go, pack up everything and leave." Jane angrily tells Luke, while she checks Mike's wound for the umpteenth time.

"Jane, we don't know what's out there. We could be killed." At this, Jane looks at Luke like he's an idiot. He may be at this point. "There is a _fucking psychopath out there shooting random survivors_. They killed one of our own, and this building can offer us no protection against them. And the cold isn't slowing the walkers down. We head out tonight, before this bastard comes and slits our throats while we sleep. And they could have friends. Clem," she suddenly turns to me, pleading for assistance.

"This is AJ's _life _we're talking about here. There's no formula, and a little food left. We'll starve to death or go crazy waiting for walkers or this insane fucker to finish us off here." She finishes. I can see now, that she and I are forming a connection that exceeds just talking. We're both damaged people. We've lost our family and everyone else we loved. We don't have much left, but I see now that we're both going to do the same thing to protect what little remains of what we love.

"She's right Luke, there's no better choice here. This is the best option, the one that gives us the greatest chance for survival." Jane nods to me in approval. Luke sputters around a bit, before finding his words. Poor baby. I guess we have two here.

I giggle a little bit. He shoots me a glare, but I give him those puppy eyes, and he cracks like the broken glass at the Motor Inn Katjaa warned me and Duck about. He grins uncontrollably, then redirects his gaze to the only other female survivor in the room.

"Fine, but Mike can't move. What can we do about that?" He has a point there. Mike _has _been slumped against the fireplace for a long time. After his cauterization, he's been unresponsive. I shift closer to AJ, and pick up the infant and back away, towards the discussion.

It looks as if Jane's convinced the Southerner, as he is nodding his head and has a defeated expression on his face. Something catches my eye at the edge of the icy lake. A figure in what appears to riot armor, like Swat or some shit. A heavily modified rifle is tightly clutched in their hands. They have many various weapons strapped on their person in various holsters and sheaths, along with a massive backpack. And they bolt as soon as I lay my eyes on them.

"GUYS!" I cry, gesturing in the vague direction of the mysterious man that was spying on our shelter. They see what-or who- I mean, and we all duck down to the cold wooden surface of the tan floor. Jane practically drags Mike over, despite protests from the worried and still-spooked Luke.

The figure continues to rush, and at an extraordinary pace, considering the amount of weight they carry with every step over the frozen ground. "Is that him? Is that the person who killed Bonnie? Answer me, dammit!" Jane nearly bellows. Mike's pale face makes the tiniest of up-and-down motions, and then Luke slings him over his back, stumbling towards the fireplace, carefully avoiding his gunshot wound in the shoulder.

At least his own, in the leg is getting better. The shorthaired woman calmly advances on our stockpile of weaponry (a lot) and our remaining ammo (little). She picks up an AKMS, checks the magazine, then pulls the operating rod back, loading a 7.62.39mm round inside the chamber.

She nods to Luke, then does the same with his Norinco-56. "I've got a plan. I'll fill you all in later." She announces. Both Mike and I keep on guard, waiting to see if the assailant is coming back, with my Glock 17 drawn. A couple minutes later, I turn back, seeing the pair of them geared up with an AK-model assault rifle, a sidearm, and spare semi-automatic pistol as backup each. Both of them have various blunt tools stuck in their belts, and their freshly sharpened (courtesy of me) combat knife and machete, respectively. Mike draws Bonnie's CZ-P09 and his SIG-Sauer P250, and lays them beside himself at his feet.

"Clem. You and AJ need to hide. Just in in case _he_ gets in. Got any ideas as to where?" Jane looks at me hopefully. We see the stack of old plastic bins at the same time.

…

It's been an hour or two, since Luke and Jane went 'hunting' as she referred to it. Where the hell are they? I wonder. I poked some holes in this blue bin with my scratch awl (courtesy of Jane). At least AJ and I can breathe and see a little bit of Mike's trembling frame, and hear his labored breathing, which as with every noise that surrounds us, seems louder than an earthquake.

I'm doubting that Luke will be able to squeeze that trigger. He still thinks everyone has some good in them. He confided that he doesn't want to kill anyone to me. Ever. He doesn't know that it's unavoidable. Or maybe he does, but he wants to stay away from it as long as possible. Kind of like Death and every person that's still alive.

A creak resonates throughout the small building. The sun has set, and the only illumination comes from the weak flames in the fireplace, and it's made up of mostly ashes and little shards of log and anything else that Jane could burn.

Mike struggles to get up on such wobbly feet. His silhouette portrays a thinning, scared man holding a handgun. That shadowy form is knocked to ground by the butt-stock of a scoped assault rifle.

He never saw the person that moved like liquid, incredibly fast, enter from the back door. The attacker starts towards our stockpile of supplies and weapons, both melee and firearms-wise. I know that this isn't like last time, with that man with the homemade spear, and his buddies who probably killed Christa, _or worse_.

I've come close to both of those things. But not this time. Now I'm armed, and I have the advantage of surprise. I raise my Glock 17, and sight the bandit's right leg in, take a breath, and exhale as I squeeze the trigger.

A single echoing bang, and an orange flash from the muzzle of my semi-automatic pistol, and Bonnie's murderer drops to the ground with an almost quiet exclamation of pain, that I instantly recognize as feminine. Luke and Jane throw the door open, weapons raised, from the side of the house, where they had been hiding after making a wide circle around the area, so they could sneak back to wait for when this bitch's back was turned to kill her. But I beat them to the cake.

A least when it came to injuring her. When I hand AJ over to Luke, who gives the masked woman a glare before crossing the room to lay Alvie down in his crib. After completing that, he hurries to where a still unconscious Mike lays.

The fire's orange glow gives Jane's face a righteous look. It's a bit weird honestly. She has the barrel of her rifle right in between the scavenger's eyes. "Clem, take her mask off." She motions to the formerly stone-still woman. I cautiously go towards her, bloody hand outstretched. The woman stares in my direction.

I tear off her disguise. Underneath is the woman who I used to think was a bossy lady, who Lee respected so I did. I never really liked that much. My free hand flies to the purple hair bands that I _still _wear, even after all this time.

The scars that have accumulated on her face don't make my realization of her identity anymore difficult. In fact, it helps, she was always a tough person, and now she has more evidence to show for it. She saved Lee at the Dairy. She killed Carley with her own gun. "Clementine." Lilly Caul croaks.

…

After we strip Lilly of her weapons, which is quite a lot, we have a decision to make. "This bitch killed Bonnie!" Jane hisses to a conflicted Luke.

"What right do we have Jane?! We ain't a Supreme Court. We can't just kill her, an unarmed woman, can we? " He hollers. The brunette man knots his dirty hair between filthy fingers.

"She said it was in self-defense," I chime in. I glance at her, while Mike keeps her at gunpoint. Mike quietly grunts an affirmation.

"Wait, what the fuck do you mean?" the yellow-jacketed twenty-something inquires. A mumbled admission from Mike reveals the truth.

"Me and Bonnie saw her alone in the woods. We crept up from behind. I grabbed her, and Bonnie came from the front. This asshole managed to get a few shots off. I tossed her to the ground. I grabbed Bonnie…you know the rest." Mike's voice squeaks at every interval where her name is used. Jane curses, and Luke continues holding his head in his hands.

We only have so many options. AJ starts crying. I extend my arm over, reach into Bonnie's bag, and pull out our last bit of formula. I adjust the cap so AJ can drink, and put it to his mouth.

The bottle's liquid is draining away, and will be empty in seconds. I reach for a towel so that I can burp him when he's done.

"We only have so many options Clem. What do you think we should do? I think we throw her out." Jane says to me. Luke shakes his head, "Hell no. We could use her help we can get. If she knows the area…the manpower would be nice," Noticing the venomous scowl she points at him, he quickly and awkwardly adds on,

"If that's okay with you that is…" Mike looks her dead in the eye when he says this, "

She should die for killing Bonnie. I'll gladly do it myself." The dark-skinned man, who still has the blood of his lover splattered across his face, which he refused to let Luke wipe off.

He presses the black barrel of Bonnie's CZ to her head, where it is carefully obscured by her tangled brown do'. AJ gurgles as he starts to burp. The group, battered and weary, looks at me. I burp AJ. "Okay guys, I say we-

**Kill her**

**Throw her out **

**Enlist her assistance in finding a place to stay at**

**That's Chapter Three! I hope you guys enjoyed it. By the way, Jane and AJ would not have been harmed if another choice was made, but Mike would have been killed. I will never do that again. Sorry if you're angry about that. I am going to make a longer sequel if I get 50 reviews on the final chapter, which I will tell you when it arrives. Anyway thanks, for reading. Please comment, review, favorite, and everything else. Merry Christmas, Amazing New Year, Happy Hanukkuh, and Jolly Kwanzah… hope that's how you spell those…**


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